NOT A WAVE

"No, you don't understand. You're not a wave, you're part of the ocean.” multi muse, multi ship, selective, oc indie rp, sideblog to fearoverfate

[thediariesofagoddess]

      “It suits me just as much as it suits you, Mr. James Dean,” she emphasized the nickname before it dawned on her that it could be understood in a very different way - of him and her being Mr. & Mrs. It was silly because only her mind could understand it that way.. no one else would go that far. Especially not Jacob.. his mind was different. So much different than hers, and he was so smart that he would never even bother with such a trivial things. “I think you could play well with others if you wanted so. You’re incredibly charming and,” she hesitated a bit because quite enough was said already, “I think there’s no person in the world who’d not want to spend time with you only if you’d let them.” Perhaps she was biased considering how much she loved these late night sessions of theirs. They were rare, but there was something so magical and warming about them that she couldn’t help but wish they could do so every damn night. “A bit, yes,” she nodded.

[partcftheocean-blog]

      Most nights, he lingered into these late hours alone and did nothing but watch the city’s lights blur into the smoke of his cigarette. And though tonight was a change of pace, it was something he didn’t mind. In fact, he was rather enjoying himself, especially as their playful banter went back and forth. “Am I really a rebel, though?” he chuckled to himself and rubbed his hands together. He always felt quite the opposite – though there were times in his life that he fit the title all too well. Jacob turned and smiled softly, although it was a bit sadly just the same. There was truth to her words whether Jacob wanted to see it or not. There was nothing wrong with him, nothing about the world that repelled others from him. It was all his doing, the choices he makes in order to stay a recluse. He just couldn’t remember how to be so opening anymore, especially with the lingering feeling of his last burn. “Thank you,” he told her softly. “I spend time with you, though. That’s enough for me, at least until you get sick of me.” He chuckled and shrugged his jacket off. He didn’t even offer it. Instead, he just simply placed it over her shoulders. “You should get in soon, though. Don’t want you out in the cold all night.”

[delevingned]

Ryan Gosling arrives at The Late Show with Stephen Colbert in NYC

[thediariesofagoddess]

     And why wasn’t she surprised he loved that song? It suited him and in a way, she would be more surprised if he wasn’t into that song. The song had that melancholy aura around itself much like Jacob himself.. and in a way, it felt like home which also reminded her of Jacob. Perhaps he was just a neighbor of hers, only one more face she’d met and one day would forget, but in the current point of her life, Jacob was home. “Miss James Dean?” Tara wholeheartedly laughed as she wrapped her jacket even tighter around herself. “Is that my new nickname? I do like it,” and he was right - she was a rebel without a cause just like the late actor’s famous character. Perhaps they both were, perhaps. “How is that possible? I don’t believe you.”

[partcftheocean-blog]

      It was then, somewhere in the moment of hearing her laugh and watching the way her smile felt absolutely intoxicating, the he knew he wished to see her more often than just these rare occasions. Of course, being a quieter soul inclined him to speak nothing of the sort. So, he just smiled at her admiringly and hesitated for just a moment before replying. “It suits you,” he admitted, “rebel without a cause.” He dug his hands into his pockets and shuffled the contents absentmindedly. “It’s definitely possible. I don’t play well with others.” He chuckled and looked at her as he scratched at the scruff along his jaw. “I’m just not.. the  most sociable guy, as you know. Only company I ever have is my coworkers and… well, you.” His smile grew soft and he cleared his throat. “You cold?”

[thediariesofagoddess]

      Biting her bottom lip, Tara looked down to her shoulders where his hand rested for a moment, perhaps two. Why did he do that? Finding a bigger meaning in ordinary, often unimportant things was her thing. “Look at us, perhaps being the loneliest people in the city. How does it go? We are just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl?” Quoting the famous lyrics of Pink Floyd, the model was tempted to rest her head on Jacob’s shoulder, but resisted the urge that was probably fueled by his own actions only to be soon killed by dropping his arm from her shoulder. “Is that an order? Because I’m known as a rebel, you know. Who knows if I’ll follow? Besides, what if you’ll already have some company?” 

[partcftheocean-blog]

      He chuckles at her words, hearing the song playing in his head in that moment. This all felt a bit brooding to Jacob – talking about loneliness in the middle of the night on a rooftop. Yes, it was brooding indeed, but it oddly suited him. “Well, I do love that song,” he joked and shook his head with a smile. Though, in that moment, he didn’t feel too lonely. Tara always had the ability to do that- to make him feel as if he had someone, even if that someone only popped into his life once in a while. He rubbed his hands together and turned his body to face her. A grin pulled on his lips. “Come see me, or don’t. You know my door is always open for you either way, Miss James Dean.” He shrugged and added, “but trust me, I never have company.”

[cataclysvm-blog]

                         ❛   R O R Y​ ——

                    ezra knew a guy, he’d said as an early promise of the night; a precursor to something extraordinary bound to happen. he knew a guy who was twenty-two and would buy them booze ( not that there wouldn’t be enough floating around for them to mooch off of, & stevie already had a proven ability to get her and ezra free beers by kissing the guy who held them ) ( it’d happened ONCE, however, right before ezra decided he’d rather be sober than watch his girlfriend do that ). seeing as her own boyfriend had yet to turn twenty-one, and his chances of being carded were often at the flip of a coin, it was a good idea for someone else to do it, on nights they simply didn’t feel like trying. tonight was one of those nights.

                    …unfortunately for her. because other men just COULD NOT be trusted. not when it came to stephanie rose’s needs & wants. for there she was, having asked for a bottle of red, not specifying where to get it or the amount of body she’d like – and they hadn’t delivered. she felt pathetic, standing there with JUG WINE ( a fucking jug of wine? why the fuck was that even a thing? ), a crazy straw sticking out of it. she’d hoped, at the very least, for something cheap that tasted strained through a coffee filter & left open overnight. what she got tasted – admittedly – sweet and significantly better than she expected, yet stephanie couldn’t hide her own distaste as she sipped slowly, watching the thin crimson liquid travel up through the loops and swirls of the straw. a little something fun for you, they’d said, before the two men ran off to say hi to some people and hopefully talk to the band before they went on.

                    it was almost dangerous, drinking something that tasted so sweet. subconsciously, she supposed, it was why she almost preferred harsher flavors – amber spirits that made you cough, that were to be tossed back quickly before they settled in your mouth. they were QUICK and to the point. they got the job done with the least amount of fuss – EFFICIENT. drinks like margaritas or martinis ( or sweet wines ) were too fun. they brought you back in for more, and when you can’t taste the alcohol, you forget you’re consuming it. & so she sipped absently.

                    it was then that her eyes began to wander. there was only so much for stevie to do as she waited in line for the bathroom – something people seemed to linger in, seeing as it was unisex, and she was sure she’d wind up having to piss in a sink. it wouldn’t surprise her, certainly. & considering she’d never been great with small talk, she hadn’t bothered to try with any strangers. whether or not she needed more friends. that was a subjective opinion, anyway. so when someone stood behind her, the line condensed and forcing bodies close to each other as the small venue filled, she paid no mind. the overhead lighting, transitioning from a purple glow in certain areas to green or red bulbs in others, dim enough to bathe the area with a darkness just bright enough to see in, yet low enough to induce a certain aura of intimacy between individuals, held her attention. there wasn’t live music yet; just something playing over the speakers that she vaguely recognized. some 90′s american band, she assumed, judging by the insistent guitar and drum riffs.

                    just as she craned her neck to count how many people were ahead of her ( if it was over eight, she’d just go do her business outside ), the girl behind her spoke. it took a moment for stevie to realize she was addressing her. she had to turn to shake her head and lean in.

                 ❛     PARDON?— i didn’t quite catch that, sorry.

[partcftheocean-blog]

               With the taste of cigarettes and tequila shots on her tongue, her mind already felt a bit hazy but it was just the right amount. The sweet spot, she always called it, but she never stayed in that zone for too long. Especially when his lips were so tempting, the way they tasted of smoke or the way they whispered in her ear convincing her to share another drink with him. Even in the green room, a room neither green nor anything remotely close to something professional in this hole in a wall place, she watched as he strummed at the strings of his guitar in a cloud of smoke. It was intoxicating just looking at him. Irresistible.  He looked up at her and gave her his devilish grin.

                She wanted to drink him in, get hooked on him instead of the buzz of the night, but he had other things to do. Mingle, keep things light, practice, get his liquid confidence running through his veins. It was something she was used to, all these Friday nights she gets lost in his sound and forgets that he isn’t just playing for her. It’s a shame, but the crowd kept her entertained and it beats spending another night in that empty house. Taking her by the chin, he pressed a kiss to her lips and said the words he always told her before parting: be good.

               The words came out like a purr, something innocent but coaxed with bad intentions. He always knew how to keep her just where he wanted her to be – on her toes, always waiting for more. Rory stood as she watched him walk away and immerse into the sea of people, knowing good and well that she wouldn’t be seeing much of him until he stood on stage. She sighed softly, tossed her golden locks back and wiped the corners of her mouth for any stray lipstick. Rory always made it a point to spend ample time considering how she looked when attending these shows in a part of the city her parents most likely refuse to step foot in. She never wanted to overdo it, accidentally show the wealth she came from. But lord, did she want to look good for him. So, she found a balance and consequently shrugged older men away as they flocked to her with free drinks and whispers of not-so sweet nothings.

               While waiting in line for the bathroom, she held a stale beer given to her by the very bartender. He always had a thing for her, noticing her every time she came out to the show. Kyle nearly picked fights with him by the end of the set, slurring on his own words and threatening him for just looking at Rory in a certain way. It was a bit childish, yet it in those times she truly felt like his. Maybe that was wrong, but she was young and naïve with no intentions on being right. She knocked back what was left of her drink and crushed the plastic cup stained with her lipstick before tossing it over near a trashcan against the other wall. The line didn’t seem to be moving, but that wasn’t too surprising.

               Looking at the girl in front of her, who seemed even more impatient than herself, she couldn’t help but to wonder what she was doing there. Rory hadn’t seen her around, not that she even knew everyone who came to these things. Still, in her buzzed mentality, she deemed the stranger interesting just like that.

               “I said,” she repeated, a bit louder over the rumble of music, “this line never moves. No telling what’s going on in that bathroom.”

[rxdiantx-archive-blog]

    If the male could go back and fix his teen years, there would be no doubt in the back of his mind on how it would be the first thing. If he could, things with his MOTHER would’ve not ended up like they did. He would’ve not rebelled as much as Byron once did. Compared to what he once was and to him now, Byron had matured greatly over those years and getting his act together. So, maybe things happened to him so he could be down this path in his life and career. At the same time, he had gotten a chance to bond with his little sister and see her grow up to a young beautiful lady. Things had managed to be good to him even if losing his mother and witnessing his father heartbroken. Now, he witnessed his best of friend now married and he had come back into contact with a girl whom he used to hang out with constantly. He was now smiling widely, piercing blue eyes still on her and nodding towards her once she remembered his name. “Correct, it really has been. Maybe too long,” he noted, lips pressed together. “Surprised, huh? I would’ve thought I was going to be anything but a lawyer, but luck wanted me to be one. Oh Harry’s graduation and the excessive amount of drinking. What were we thinking? Oh right, drinking to not deal with our problems.” A chuckle had fallen from his lips, but it was true. 

[partcftheocean-blog]

    It seemed like all the moments in her life, all the substantial decisions she made were all a string of mistakes. Cursed with naïve eyes and a taste for the forbidden, Rory was the outcome of a teenager who failed to grow up when necessary. Now, thankfully, she was grown. She’s matured, though her light is now dim.  Seeing him brought her back to the days of high school. The days when getting loaded was just simply… being a teenager. It’s a shame no one drilled that through her mind after graduation. Maybe she would have made less mistakes, maybe she would still have an ounce of integrity. But now she was just the remaining pieces of herself that she failed to break. It’s so easy to point the finger at others – her abusive ex, her neglecting parents… but when it came down to it, she made all the choices that got her to this point. No one’s fault but her own. That’s how she finally realized she had grown up. Accepted responsibility, accepted, although defeated by her past. She was so used to seeing her classmates grown up, mature, making a name and life for themselves. It was admirable, but she holds her whereabouts and her doings a secret. All that matters to her is now. No time to think about yesterday. And he was right, really. It took her years to finally deal with her problems, but he didn’t need to know that. “We were pretty dumb, weren’t we?” She chuckles and shakes her head. “I’m glad high school days are over. Although, I can do without all this responsibility all the time,” she teased. “But, I’m glad to see you’re doing well. I just got back in town, moved back here. So, it’s nice to see a familiar face.”

[dailygossipgirl]

[weightofwar-a-blog]

@partcftheocean

[weightofwar-a-blog]

        “all i know is that i want to be with you,” he answers almost abruptly, voice laced with a gentle desperation. he never breaks his gaze from her; he knows the way she’s looking at him. it’s the way she would look at him after she posed a tough question back at the hospital. her tone and cadence would ask him, are you sure you don’t want to get up and enjoy the sun today? or are you sure you don’t want to eat? and back then he couldn’t give a straight answer, but now it’s spilling out of him. 

          “i ain’t got nothin anywhere. my family, i’d end up just hurtin’ them if they see me like this. i wanna be on my own,” he continues, swallowing. nevertheless, his voice remains firm. there’s no changing his mind. “i wanna see if i can find a place here and just… be with you. i’m willin’ to take that chance. it’s all i got, you’re all i got.”

[partcftheocean-blog]

               It all felt surreal, as if any moment she’d awake in bed with nothing but a dream lingering in her mind. It wouldn’t be all that surprising if that was the case, because she was almost positive she has dreamt something like it once before. Her mind had always been consumed by him, ever since the day the first met. She never knew he felt it, too. Never knew he could feel something remotely close to how drawn she was to him -  like a moth to a light. And he was the brightest damn light around.

               His words take a moment to settle within her. She almost can’t comprehend them. He wants to stay for her? Did he really feel that strongly for her? Why couldn’t she see it all this time? Absentmindedly, she brought her fingers up to his bicep and she grazed the pad of her thumb against his skin gently. Looking up at him, she spoke quietly, “I’m willing to take that chance with you. Be with you…” And then the unexpected happen, possibly the most selfish words she has ever said to him. “Stay for me… please.”

[weightofwar-a-blog]

       she says it now but he knows it’s just an empty truth, a glass of water to give to him after a long walk in the desert. truth is, she was probably better off without him, or at least she’d learned how to be. for the evening he’s just a bump in the road of her life, a cloud in her endless string of silver linings. he takes a second, looking down at the ground before he looks over his shoulder at her. he notices she’s all the way across the room now. distant. 

           “i think i should be fine. just…. maybe wanna use your shower,” he says, raking his fingers through his hair. “if you don’t mind. then i’ll be outta your way and let you sleep.” it doesn’t dawn on him until he catches a glimpse of the time on the microwave that it’s goddamn late and he’s imposing, so he figures all he can do now is shower and sleep. wouldn’t do him much good to keep her up, unless she wanted to.

[partcftheocean-blog]

       Everything she managed to say, she felt as if she was pushing him farther and farther away. Like she was giving him the cold shoulder, making him feel as if he was the farthest thing from wanted. And maybe somehow, she was trying to do that. It was just a front, a type of defense mechanism that would keep her from getting hurt. But it was killing her knowing how distant she was being, how different things were between the two. Could it be just years before they were two souls completely on fire, addicted to one another? It was hard to think about.

      She gathered some sheets and a comforter from the linens closet before walking back towards the couch. Shooing her dog away, she made the couch into his own little bed. Its then she realized how undone she must have appeared – hair a mess of waves, pajamas, fresh for bed though she’s been like this for hours. She nearly grimaced at that thought, but she supposed it was something she didn’t have to worry about. She stood up straight and tucked some hair behind her ear. “Um, yeah, of course you can. I’ll show you where it is. You can just, put down your things wherever you like.” She smiled softly and nodded for him to follow as she walked down the hall towards the bathroom. She turned on the light and reached up on her tip toes to retrieve a fresh towel. She placed it on the counter and pointed towards the shower. “You can use whatever you want in there. Sorry I don’t have any.. manly smelling things.” She stepped out of the bathroom and smiled. “I’ll be in the kitchen. Just.. holler if you need anything.”

[weightofwar-a-blog]

        they kiss, and for a moment he feels like he’s dreaming. but it’s not the sort of dream you have when you’re asleep; it’s like the mind is checking out for brief moments, creating a surreal version of reality. she’s a blur, just like her voice is a blur, but when the two converge, it’s almost holy. the only thing he can really, truly understand in this state is that he loves her, and maybe that’s the most important thing right now. maybe it doesn’t matter that he doesn’t know where he’s going to end up, because he’s found his next step. 

         it’s her. it’s gotta be. 

        when they pull away from the kiss, he lingers, but this time he’s more sober. he licks his lips and tastes the wine; rose red. rose red in the colors of their conversations, their laughter, their small-time intimacies. he’s purely in love with her. 

       “i don’t wanna push you. i don’t want you to think that– because of this, we gotta be anything. we can just– stay the way we are,” he says, voice barely there as he looks at her. “i just… need to know how you feel so that i can make the next decision in my life.”

[partcftheocean-blog]

      In that moment, she was both hung up on him and hung up on the idea of deciding his fate. The pressure hung heavy on her shoulders, though he never meant for it too. There was a part of her that wondered where he truly wanted to be – did he wish to stay, go somewhere knew, or go back home? She didn’t want him to hang around for the sake of her, but then again, she supposed he wouldn’t have said any of this if he wasn’t willing to do something about it.

      But that’s the thing, Luna always had a habit of letting her mind run wild. She was getting ahead of herself, so she took a moment to clear her head with all but one thing – she loved him. That was terrifying on its own, but it felt good to finally admit it. He said she saved him, but honestly, she was beginning to wonder if he saved her.

     Taking another moment to speak, she looks up at him and breathes in slowly. “I… feel the same way for you,  I do.. and I want to be with you.. but is that what you want?”

[weightofwar-a-blog]

       it doesn’t make much sense in his head, why she’s blaming herself. but he figures that’s an answer that’s going to take ten years to understand. he can feel how uncomfortable this situation is making her, and he starts to feel the same; but it’s not exactly a feeling of being out of place. this is all he’s got, right now– this is the only place he can be. he couldn’t be out of place, but rather, just out of place without her. he has to remember they’re not together anymore, and that was easier when they were apart. now he just has to build up all the strength again, put up a guard he’d long forgotten to maintain. 

         “me too,” he responds softly, pulling his lips back for a moment. his eyes fall on the ground before they meet up with hers again. he tries to forget that he saw a tear cascade down her cheek. “let’s just start over tonight. i’ll– i can sleep on the couch. please, rory.”

[partcftheocean-blog]

             And even though she’s happy, she has nothing to show for it. Maybe she was a bit overwhelmed, suddenly weighed down by their undeniable heaviness they always carried between each other. She wanted to be happy. God, she didn’t even know he was home…didn’t even know he was alive.  He always been in the back of her mind while she crumbled with all the possibilities of where he could be.

           She always wondered if he came home, maybe he found himself a girl somewhere. She always wondered, but never made it a point to actually find out. Always too stubborn, always too scared.

           “yeah,” she tells him softly and nods, “okay. you know you always got a place here.” She smiled faintly and walked farther in her home. “I’ll get you some blankets. Do you, uh, want anything to drink or eat?”

[thediariesofagoddess]

           The raven haired beauty felt his gaze on her as he mentioned he liked the view which made the corners of her lips pull up into a smile. Perhaps that was what she needed to make her calm.. someone who would make her smile at the end of the day. For a while, all she had was the feeling of her constantly rushing through life - always chasing something, yet never quite getting there. Where was her Godot? “I don’t know,” Tara replied honestly as she let out a small, barely heard sigh. “Perhaps I’m lonely, more than I want to admit. Perhaps I come here to search for windows whose owners have their lights still on. Perhaps I don’t want to be the only one who’s awake,” she finished as she looked up to him from side. “However, it seems to me that those are awake are closer to me than I’ve ever imagined.”

[partcftheocean-blog]

      He always liked the way she presented herself – like she was poetry, beautiful words strung together in a way that both excited him but also left him intrigued. They were just neighbors, but he always enjoyed her company in these late hours. There was something so soothing about her that he couldn’t put his finger on. Either way, he liked listening to her, constantly wondering what was going on in her head while wondering just the same for himself. The man never seemed to know what he was thinking. But he gave her a smile, soft like her words. “You know,” he started, slumping his arm around her shoulders casually, “I kind of like… being restless and finding my way up here. Especially when you come along. It’s less lonely.”  He smiled softly and dropped his arm before glancing at the city. “So, on nights you can’t sleep… just come find me.”

[weightofwar-a-blog]

      she killed him. she absolutely fucking killed him. and they hadn’t even seen each other for three minutes. he sets his duffel bag down, completely defeated, a tear falling down from the corner of his eyes. he’s quick to wipe it off, quicker to sniffle. he remains completely composed, but it’d be a lie to say he wasn’t hurt, either. hurt for hurting her. he could be so stupid sometimes, and maybe that’s why they ended in the first place. 

     he rakes his fingers through his hair and looks over at her. “i just can’t get the sight of you hurt outta my head. how i hurt you. i don’t want that to happen again,” he says licking his lips. “you’s– you’re allowed to be happy to see me, allowed to be angry, allowed to be anythin’. but i know how you really feel and nothin’s gonna change that.”

[partcftheocean-blog]

     It was a normal night. It was supposed to be a normal night. Beck always had the habit of feeling like a hurricane – a rush of wind and perfect storms. Back then she thought it was destruction, but now she finds beauty in the chaos he makes her feel.

     “Beck,” she starts softly, “I don’t mean this.. in a rude way… But you don’t know me anymore. And you sure as hell don’t know how I really feel…” Her eyes studied the floor a she shifted uncomfortably. “We were kids, Beck. I hurt easily then, but the pain you made me feel was nothing compared to the pain I brought on myself. That’s all it ever was. Not you… me. You did what you had to do. I was just… a selfish kid throwing a goddamn tantrum.” A tear formed in the corner of her eye and she wiped it before let it fall. “So… let me be happy to see you. Because, god, I am…”

[weightofwar-a-blog]

      by the time she reaches out for his hand, he’s already stood up. her words echo in his ears and he can’t hear anything but her, her words reverberating in his clouded mind. she’s the only sense of clarity he feels. he looks at her and it’s all clear. how she makes him feel, how she makes him think. everything he’s grown to be after months of being a broken man is all because of her. and now he can’t even imagine a world without. 

        so maybe that’s why, when he looks down at her, entire face absolutely sincere and almost pleading, he places a hand on the side of her face and kisses her. it’s a tender kiss, nothing forceful, just a reminder that she exists if she’s ever felt like floating around him. he’s stood up, but he bends down to kiss her, and he knows he’ll regret it later tonight but right now it’s the only thing his body can do. 

        when he pulls away, he lingers; his eyes are closed as he’s brushing his lips away from hers. voice is thick and low when he tells her a secret. 

         “luna young, i fell in love with you and now i can’t go back. you saved me. you did.”

[partcftheocean-blog]

     She waited for him to pull his hand away. She waited for him to insist that he must leave.  It was the kind of behavior she was used to when she first met him – shut tight, running away from how he felt. She remembers his stubbornness when they first met and how determined she was to make him warm up to her. For a moment there, she considered the thought that perhaps he wasn’t as warmed up to her as she believed.

     She thought for a moment that all of this – the time spent together, the dinner, conversation.. it was prying to close and too fast. She thought she lost him just when she seemed to have got him. But then, he did the one thing she least expected – he pulled her into a kiss. Surprised, she sat there for a moment before returning the kiss, realizing she had been wanting to kiss him for far too long. Her hand reaches up to touch the hand that rested on her cheek. His lips tasted like the wine they drank and she couldn’t help but to wonder if she tasted the same. He pulls away with her eyes still half lidded, and she listens to his words and finds herself paralyzed.

     Had it been this the whole time? Love? The reason she lingered in his hospital room, the reason she took double shifts just to spend more time with him? The reason she couldn’t leave him be, although he had a life somewhere else with others… She fell for him and that was terrifying. So terrifying that she never allowed herself to see it. So, instead of saying another word, she rose to her feet and cupped his face in his hands taking a leap of faith. She pressed another kiss to his lips with subtle passion, her fingertips grazing against the scruff along his jaw. She pulled away slowly like he had done to her and she whispered back to him. “I fell for you, Beckett. I’ve been trying to convince myself otherwise… but I can’t anymore. I fell for you, I think I did long ago.”

[weightofwar-a-blog]

      walking into her home felt like walking into a fragment of the past that he’d left so long ago. heavy footsteps of old boots are loud in the empty house; he doesn’t set his things down when he finds a place to stand. he looks at her, eyebrows furrowed slightly, a solemn expression on his face. she needs, deserves an explanation. why is he here, why isn’t he dead, what does he want. the answers all jumble in his head before she can even ask them, but he knows she shouldn’t have to. he knows things like this have to be understood. 

        “i… i ain’t got nowhere to go.”   he licks his lips and looks down at his hands; they’re of bruised knuckles and old rings.    “you’re the only person i got right now. please let me stay here, even just for tonight. then i’ll be outta your life again like i wasn’t even here.”

[partcftheocean-blog]

     Closing the door behind her, she watches as he wanders into her home. And even though he didn’t intend it, his words stung her. Did he think so low of her that he expected to slam that door in his face? That she didn’t feel a tiny bit of excitement of seeing the man she could possibly never forget? It hurt, even though it wasn’t supposed to. It hurt knowing that’s who she was. Careless, selfish, and naïve. She’s changed, or at least she’s trying to, but he didn’t know that. He just thought she wanted him far away from her. Wanted him dead.

      How could she ever? “Beck,” she said softly while crossing her arms over her chest, “of course… stay here. You don’t have to…. I mean, I don’t want you to…” She couldn’t find her words. She breathed in for a moment to collect herself. Finally, she looked up at him with hurt eyes. “Am I not allowed to be happy to see you?”

[weightofwar-a-blog]

      “if it was any other circumstance and you were tryin’ to force feed fake jell-o down my throat, then i’d be god damn sick and tired of you before you could even say another word,” he says, chuckling as he takes another bite of his steak. “but i– i don’t mind this.” he picks at his food some; not that it doesn’t taste delicious, but there’s only so much he can stomach these days. he’s getting better at it though. 

       another moment of comfortable silence passes and he takes a sip of wine before bringing up a thought that’d been lingering in his mind all evening. “you know, i been– i been stayin’ at that motel for the past week or so now while i was figurin’ out where i’d live once i moved back down to alabama. my folks say i should just stay with ‘em, and they insist, but it feels wrong. it all just… it feels wrong. like i ain’t me in my skin no more.” he doesn’t talk much, but when he does, it’s everything that’s going on in his head. all the honest truths. 

        “only time i ever really feel like i know what the hell i’m doin is… when i’m with you. back at the hospital, my next step was to get better. that was all for me. that was how small my world was, cause i felt like– i wadn’t gonna get better, you know? shit wadn’t gonna be the same cause of my injury, but i was just lucky i wadn’t dead. but my next step was to get better. now i’m better. what the hell’s next? for me? how do i– how do i live life the same way again after years of bein somebody… different? different than who i am now?”

       he catches himself. takes a deep breath. there’s a clink of silverware on his plate as he nearly rises. 

      “i’m sorry. i should go.”

[partcftheocean-blog]

     When it rains, it pours. And Beckett poured out faster than ever. It was hard to get that boy to open up, but then again, who was she to ever pry? She was guilty of the same thing. Hearing him say those words, hearing the way he truly felt… she felt almost heartbroken. From the beginning, since the moment she saw him half-unconscious and doubtful all that time ago, she wanted nothing but the best for him. Wanted nothing but for him to feel alive again.

     With every word he spoke, she could see the helplessness in his eyes and she wanted to make it go away. She wanted to help because that’s who she is – the girl who helped too much. But this wasn’t just because of her nature. No, she found herself truly caring for the man.

     And before she get out a word, she felt the dramatic shift in the air as he gave a quick goodbye. “Hey,” she said softly, quickly reaching over and taking his hand. She looked him in the eyes – no sense of her usual shyness. She looked at him with desperate sincerity. “Stay… please.” She let go of his hand slowly and looked down before adding, “trust me. I know you must think I haven’t got  a clue how you feel, but I do. I know what it’s like to be lost.” She looked up at him once again. “Just talk to me. You don’t have to run away from it.”

[weightofwar-a-blog]

           a decade later and she looks at him like she’s looking at a ghost, but she knows his name like it’s been burned in the back of her mind. he knows that he’s the last person she wants to see tonight– any night. and he knows that his gut would say that he shouldn’t, can’t be here, but his heart doesn’t feel like it can belong anywhere else but here. he’s at the same doorstep that he was years and years ago. just as a different person now. someone grown. someone who needed her help even though he didn’t deserve it. 

         they’d agreed never to be a part of each other’s lives again. and he thought about it. maybe seeing her every now and then when he finally got home from war in the corner of his eyes while she’s picking out vegetables at the market. maybe hearing her name called out in the middle of a busy place and hoping, turning, to see it’s her. but jesus christ, those were only thoughts, and nothing feels more surreal than standing in front of her at this moment. 

         he takes off his pride, didn’t have much in the first place when it came to her. she humbled him. he looks at her, backpack on his right shoulder. the sight of her makes his throat well up, and god damn he might even feel his eyes brim with tears, so he’s forced to have evasive eyes. simple, straightforward words are spoken under the light of the moon and he manages to glance at her for a fraction of them.

                 “i know i’d promised i’d never be here again but i needed to see you.”

[partcftheocean-blog]

    It was hard to think about him. After she moved, after he left, it was so hard to think about him. Of course, at the time, she wanted to blame him for everything that had happened to her. How she fell into the arms of another man, a man who did nothing but made her more dead than alive. How she found her life spiraling out of control until she couldn’t even see. Now she’s come to realize that her actions were completely her doings and not his. Then that’s when it got even harder to think about – what if she waited for him? What if she stayed home, out of the arms of destruction? What if being lonely was worth everything in the end?

    But those questions remained unanswered. Gotta keep on keepin’ on. It was he mantra, to never look back at the past. Yet, here he was staring her right in the face. Her past, the one thing in her life she could remember that seemed right. He was her silver lining, yet in the end, she found a reason to make him just another gray cloud… and that was never fair to him. She’s spent so many years of her life wanting to blame others, find safety in others, find love in others… turns out she got just about the opposite of all those things.

     So, what was she supposed to say? It hurt looking at him, hurt knowing all the selfish thoughts she had back then. It hurt just thinking how things ended with him. It was something she wasn’t prepared to take on yet, or at least she kept telling herself that. One step at a time, they told her. Yet, all she does is avoid. But she looks at his eyes and sees the familiarity in them and for once feels less alone. He always had that effect on her. So, she moved and opened the door a bit more before replying softly, “come inside…”